Howling At The Moon
by LadyAbyssal
Summary: Saving the world should've been left up to the dragon who wasn't constantly getting distracted by small, fuzzy objects. (Or: Wherein the future is seen only by the creature who chose Morzan of all people to mind-link with. (Morzan's-Dragon!SI))
1. 0-1 The Arcana

**LadyAbyssal presents...**

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 **Howling At The Moon**

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 **0.1 The Arcana**

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 **How** did that old myth go?

Upon death, the souls of mortal man were taken to the Underworld. They carried a golden coin underneath their tongues to pay Charon for transport across Acheron, the River of Pain, where they would stand trial against the Judges of the Underworld. Some, but not all, would then drink from the River of Oblivion, Lethe. They would suffer complete forgetfulness, and soon be reborn in the world of the living once more.

From what she could gather, the cleansing didn't happen instantaneously. The rebirth did. Had she been reincarnated into a mundane human, it would have made no difference – what could a human child do to fight against the purification of their very soul? Nothing. Nothing at all. Lucky for her, than, that she was not being reborn as a mere human.

Dragons were entities of immense, primal magic. What they could accomplish was limited only by their willpower and desire. A woman on the edge of death who believed she had nothing left to lose had no shortage of either.

 _I never want to forget anything again!_

Her magic burned like white fire. It came too late to save everything – her language, her family, her world, her _entire_ ** _life_** had already been forgotten. Her True Name lay in tatters, unrecognizable and broken. All she managed to save was her knowledge and her mind.

It was... enough. It was enough.

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 **0.1 The Arcana**

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 **She** saw nothing, smelled nothing, heard nothing. Her perception had been turned inwards, a world of wonder and emotion and imagination, of fantasy. Stories without cause played on an endless loop, slipping seamlessly from _The Mistborn Trilogy_ to _The Inheritance Cycle_ to _The Lies of Locke Lamora_ to whatever caught her fancy next.

She wasn't sure if this was heaven or hell. Either way, they were all she had.

It reminded her of an article she had read about sensory deprivation, once. She couldn't remember reading it and couldn't remember how to read, regardless, but the knowledge was still hers. Maybe she lacked sensory organs, maybe there was simply nothing to sense; either way, she knew that madness would be the end result. Did she stave it off, somehow? Or was she already insane? ...Would she know, if she was?

She found it hard to think. She found it harder to care. One eternity passed into the next, just her and her stories, and a yearning desire for one she could call her own. She wanted it to end and she wanted it to last forever, but she didn't know what "it" was.

Maybe it would have been better to let herself forget.

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 **0.1 The Arcana**

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 **Her** isolation was eventually broken by the strangest feeling. A presenceenshrouded her soul, feeling like a warm and well-worn cloak being thrown over her shoulders. It was a stark contrast to the emptiness haunting the rest of her existence, and she focused on it with desperate exultation.

The presence was – comforting, she realized. It _felt_ of a riot of clashing sensations that couldn't possibly be real. One moment, she was knowledge carved into stone, and the next, she was a pillar of salt being swept away by the wind, only to become a thunderbolt imprisoned in a cage of glass immediately after... but it was all happening at the same time, with countless other feelings thrown in. There was a certain seductive flavor to the entire experience, like the taste of sugar on a lover's lips, and she would have shivered if she had a body to shiver with.

 _Is this one worthy?_ something deep and primal within her seemed to ask.

She couldn't say. There was an instinct scratch, scratch, scratching at the back of her mind, carrying with it a weight of gravity, as if to impress upon her the importance of this decision. She somehow _knew,_ in a way that she could not explain, that this would be the most important choice of her new life. It was not one to make lightly. Once made, there would be no going back.

...The realization scared her. Would she want to spend the rest of eternity irrevocably linked to this presence? She could imagine it. This mind cradling hers – for that's what it was, she knew, the mind of another sapient being, asking if she found them worthy – was charismatic, determined, passionate, and devilishly intelligent. This was the mind of a man who could move mountains. And yet... and yet...

 ** _...No_** _,_ she decided, returning to her dream of _The Wheel of Time._ Perrin was finally accepting his nature as a Wolfbrother, and she wanted to see how his story ends, far more than she wanted to bind herself to this mind. After all-

-this presence didn't make her feel **alive.**

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 **0.1 The Arcana**

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 **A** million more asked if they were worthy, and she ignored every last one.

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 **0.1 The Arcana**

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 **Yet** another mind wrapped itself around her soul, no different than all the others.

The presence made her feel like the sun, her wrath burning away the sea; the guillotine, crashing to the earth with cruel purpose; the flame, breathed by a street magician; the only crow in a world of eagles; the king standing on the peak of a mountain, claiming all that lay within her sight; the falling star...

 _Is this one worthy?_

…flood rising with every passing second; the candle's light in the eye of a storm; the blade snapping clean in two; the warrior reveling in her enemy's terror; the blind...

 _Is this one worthy?_

...the injured wolf abandoned by it's pack; the kitten cruelly pawing at her first mouse; the...

 _Is this one worthy?_

...burning, burning, burning, until there was nothing left but ash...

 _Is this one-_

 ** _No._**

All minds have an underlying "feel" to them – this one blazed like the core of a sun. This presence was wrathful, obsessive, cruel, proud, impulsive, and utterly self-righteous; exactly the kind of person she couldn't understand. It's positive traits could be summed up with the phrase "probably wouldn't devour you if you ran away fast enough."

She would have dismissed this latest applicant without a second thought, if it wasn't for one thing-

-she's never felt more **alive.**

 ** _...But he's mine anyway._**

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 **0.1 The Arcana**

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She was awake and aware within moments.

Despite being just as incapable of sight now as she had been in limbo, the differences between life and whatever-that-had-been were obvious. There was a low murmur just on the edge of hearing, for all that it seemed thunderous compared to the absolute sensory deprivation she had been subjected to. There was also a soft, nameless warmth cocooning her, like a favored coat, or a mother's embrace. Lastly, but most importantly, there was the heady taste of... _something_ on the tip of her tongue.

She tried to breathe it in but only managed to slam the crown of her skull into something hot, wet, and firm. She froze, caught completely off-guard by the alien sensation. Once, twice, thrice, she slowly pressed her skull back into the wall-of-warmth-and-water, as if she was trying to bury her head into it. There was an unexplained crackling noise but no other reaction. She mewled in confusion.

What was going on? She didn't understand. Her bafflement devolved into fear and rising panic as she realized the once-soothing heat was restricting her freedom of movement. The air was stale and dry, hunger and thirst were beginning to claw at her stomach, and, worst of all, _she couldn't stretch her wings._ She struggled wildly, writhing like a snake as she attempted to free herself from her prison and only exhausted herself in the process.

Inspiration struck her and she reeled back, huddling in the corner of her confinement. Her front foreleg was curled up underneath her bulk, but she could feel the sharp talons at the tip of it and knew it was the key to her freedom. Slowly, she shimmied her paw up in front of her and unfolded the leg in the sudden free space. She angled each wickedly sharp claw underneath her and, using her leverage to provide strength, impaled them paw-deep into the wall-of-warmth-and-water.

They punctured clean through. She preened in pride and delight, her earlier panic all-but forgotten. Little ribbons-of-white-light were slipping in from outside the wall-of-warmth-and-water, and she wanted to know what else was out there. She unfolded her other foreleg from its position pressed up against her belly, and bared her fangs with savage delight. Her blood was pumping, her heart was drumming, and she felt truly alive.

She pounced, intent on snatching the ribbons-of-white-light and hoarding them. The wall-of-warmth-and-water fell away against the might of her bulk, but did not crackle like it had earlier. Instead, it _rolled,_ and she rolled with it.

There was an intense rush of vertigo as she tipped tail over head over tail again. Before she could react, the nauseous feeling increased by a sudden sensation of weightlessness. She squeaked in shock and fear, but could do nothing as the wall-of-warmth-and-water impacted against something else with a screeching sound.

She didn't understand what was going on, _again,_ and she found that she didn't like the feeling. Angry and more than a little vindictive, she channeled her bafflement and frustration into many wild swipes of her claws against her prison. That same crackling sound as before greeted her efforts, but she kept at it, eventually breaking off a shard of the wall-of-warmth-and-water the size of her skull.

The ribbons-of-white-light abruptly transformed into an entire too-bright world outside of her... egg, that's what it was, an egg. She eagerly thrust her head out of the hole in the eggshell and wiggled her way through, breaking off other chunks of the shell in the process. The entire ordeal had taken entirely too long, for her tastes, and she was hungry.

She closed her eyes against the harsh brightness, but didn't hesitate to set her paws down outside the egg. The floor felt cold and dry against her soft paws, not at all like the moist warmth of her egg, and she quickly decided that she didn't like the sensation. After freeing her hindlegs and lower body from the egg, she impetuously batted it aside with her tail in a fit of pique.

She was reveling in her success and freedom when a shadow blotted out the brightest source of light. Her eyes opened immediately to solve this latest mystery, and were greeted with the sight of a towering, but still childlike human.

He was good-looking for something with only two legs and no wings, she decided, with fair skin, high cheekbones, and a certain amount of facial symmetry. His hair was shaggy and unkempt, and while a deep, dark black, was haphazardly styled – as if he had cut it himself with a knife and mirror. His earthen-toned clothes only enhanced this impression, as they were worn down by the weight of years despite being well-taken care of and of expensive make.

None of this mattered to her, as her entire focus was drawn to the strange intensity in the two-legged-no-wings' blue and black eyes – and the slight smile quirking his lips. He dropped down to a knee in front of her and spoke something unintelligible, reaching out with his hands. He seemed eager, she realized, but restrained, as if he wanted nothing more than to snatch her and hold her tight, but feared she would spook and bolt if he moved too quickly.

Feeling slightly offended but mostly amused, she deigned to allow herself to be petted – and nuzzled into his open palm when he took too long to do so.

The two-legged-no-wings immediately jerked away with a startled shriek, clutching his hand to his chest as if she had wickedly burned him. He spasmed and shook for a long second before passing out with a pathetic whimper. He fell onto his back with a muffled _thump_ a moment later.

She glared at him balefully for the disrespect. She had been perfectly accommodating and allowed the eager child to pet her, and this was how he reacted? The nerve! The dragon attempted to growl menacingly, failed, and squeaked in outrage instead.

Her stomach made its displeasure known, and she batted a paw at it in annoyance. There was nothing she could do to satisfy it now. Her right-paw side was blocked off by a strange, shimmery blue wall of cloth. Behind her and to the left were walls of the same dark stone that was making her legs ache something fierce. The only way out was to the front, but there was currently a useless human pulling a Snorlax and blocking it off with his sleeping body.

She huffed in annoyance, but began to slowly, almost drunkenly trot towards the human. She reached him a moment later – he hadn't fallen far – and reeled back onto her haunches, like she had inside the wall-of-warmth-and-water what seemed like forever ago. She leaped, flapping her wings ineffectually, and eventually managed to scale up the side of the two-legged-no-wings.

Before she could jump off the other side, she was distracted by the gleam of light on her flawless, shining white scales. A long moment passed as she dashed in a circle on top of the human, drawing a grunt from him as she did so, as she tried to see all of her pretty scales at once. She failed, but a startlingly familiar sensation arose in her mind.

It was the presence – the one she had chosen in the before-time. It still felt of fire and pride and hunger, but it was softer now, lighter. There wasn't any sense of desperation and loneliness, and it seemed... happier. Brighter.

 _"Beautiful. Absolutely beautiful,"_ a voice sounded directly into her mind. It was kind and warm, passionate, like a midsummer evening. She could listen to it all day and never tire. _"I have waited a very long time to meet you, my beautiful dragon. A... very long time."_

The presence sent a pulse of affection through their mind-to-mind link. She preened; she was unable to understand the words, but the message was clear as day. She felt that same affection for the voice, possessive and joyous and proud, and with a spike of will made sure that he would feel it just like she felt his.

There was a sharp intake of breath. A moment later, two soft hands began to stroke her scales, and she finally connected the presence in her mind with the human underneath her paws. Crooning in delight at the wondrous feeling, she buried her head into the hand resting on top of her skull, toddling forwards and onto his chest as she did so.

She stared directly into his blue and black eyes, and saw the visage of a tiny – but fierce – shining white dragon in his mind's eye.

 _"My name is Morzan, Son of None. What should your name be, I wonder?"_

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 ** _Author's Note:_** _Eragon was the first high fantasy story I've ever read, back in... fifth grade? Sixth? Something like that. Looking back, I can see why so many people despise it, but it'll always hold a special place in my cold, black heart for that reason regardless. As the saying goes, you always remember your first._

 _This is an exercise in apologetics, I suppose. Try to make sense of some of the confusing backstory, parse the often-confusing rules of magic, and write from the perspective of an adorable dragon. Will probably have elements of horror, eventually, seeing as that's what I tend towards, but... we'll see._

 _See if you can divine the identity behind the first 'presence' that the dragon felt - the charismatic one who can 'move mountains.' I'm not sure if I made it too obvious or too obscure. Definitely a canon character, though._


	2. 1-1 The Fool

**1.1 The Fool**

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 ** _"It's_** _annoying,"_ Morzan began, stalking into the black-stone-six-walls she had spent her entire life inside of. For once, he did not close the door behind him. _"But it seems that we'll be leaving this wretched desert and going to some prissy elven city, Ilirea or something. The caravan leaves in three hours."_

Contrary to her two-legged-no-wings' tense walk and dismissive manner of speech, not that she understood more than one word out of ten, his side of the telepathic bond radiated joy, relief, and smug satisfaction. She couldn't comprehend why he bothered to put on airs around her – was he being tsundere, like many of the characters in the stories in her head, or was he trying to convince himself that he wasn't eager?

She lashed her tail in confusion and accidentally knocked her favorite pillow off of the bed. She stared mournfully down at it. While she was capable of leaping down and grabbing it, climbing back up the bed would be no trivial matter. Which did she want more – the pillow, or the bed? She couldn't decide.

 _"Behold, my fearsome dragon,"_ Morzan complimented her. She preened while her human kneeled down before her, picked up her fallen pillow, and set it down in front of her. It took but a moment to curl up on top of it – she couldn't lose it again if she was sitting on it, after all. _"I need to fetch my possessions before we leave; it'll be a very long time, if ever, before we return to Kraen. I should be back in time for the caravan, but I might be a few minutes late. Damn elves didn't give me any forewarning."_

She responded with a burst of affection. He always seemed depressed and wary when he had to leave the room, and while she didn't like these situations any more than he did, she at least had the option to sleep through them and wake up after he returned. For that alone, she was excited for the journey to Ilirea – she wouldn't be able to hide herself away in the black-stone-six-walls any longer, and could follow her Rider wherever he wanted to go.

 _"I'll keep the link open,"_ he decided, as if there was any other option. He stroked the scales at the crown of her skull, and she purred, attempting to bury her head into his shining, silver palm. He laughed in response, much of the tension fleeing his body. An entirely too short minute later, he rose to his feet, striding out of the room without a single backwards glance. _"Later, love."_

With her human gone and leaving her with nothing to do, the dragon circled her pillow a couple of times and tried to rest. Sleep, however, proved strangely elusive.

She was excited to leave. The black-stone-six-walls was a nice enough nest, she supposed, for a place given to her for free, but she was a dragon. She wanted open skies, distant horizons, and fresh wind rich with the scent of prey, despite having only hazy memories of what such things are like. This room, even with its sinfully soft pillows and roaring fire to stave off cold nights, lacked so much as a window.

There was a part of her that was reluctant, however. She had some lovely memories, here, many of which wouldn't come twice. _This_ section of floor was where she forged her link with her Rider. _That_ suspiciously stained pillow was where she ate her first meal. _Those_ decorative, completely empty pots was where she had the utterly unrelated realization that humans who only ate plants were weird.

She would miss this place. Not enough to even contemplate staying, but she would miss it.

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 **1.1 The Fool**

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 **She** slept for all of thirty minutes before her excitement woke her.

 _"Good morning, sleeping beauty,"_ Morzan greeted her, as had become habit in the two days since her hatching. There was an affectionate thrum to his mind-voice, as well as something archly amused, and she could almost see the grin on his face despite the miles that separated them. _"Only two more hours, now."_

She whined and restlessly swished her tail through the air, still unable to process her Rider's words but getting the impression that she still had a while to wait before she could see the sky. The only way she could sneak outside any sooner would be to leave the black-stone-six-walls alone, and even if she had the thumbs and height needed to open the door, that would mean disobeying the only rule Morzan gave her. She didn't want to make him mad at her: the very thought of disappointment being sent through their warm and precious link made her scales burn and her wings itch.

What could she do, though? She wanted out of the black-stone-six-walls and didn't want to wait. It was like being trapped in the wall-of-warmth-and-water all over again. There was an entire world outside that she wanted to explore, but she was trapped. She didn't like being confined.

Clawing at her egg had given her a larger nest to claim and even a human to pet her and feed her. Following the realization that the black-stone-six-walls was basically a larger version of the wall-of-warmth-and-water to its logical conclusion, than clawing at _that_ would give her an even larger nest to claim and even more humans to pet her and feed her. It wouldn't even be breaking her Rider's rule – she didn't necessarily need to actually _leave_ the room, just claw at it until she could see what was outside. She had been able to see Morzan himself from within the egg, after all, even though she hadn't been paying attention and had been otherwise occupied.

Decision made, she padded to the edge of the bed and prepared to lunge off. Before she could, however, she remembered the sinfully soft pillow that she had been sleeping on. Once she jumped down, she wouldn't be able to sleep on it anymore. That wouldn't do; her human was away and thus incapable of fetching it for her, which meant she had to grab it now if she wanted it later.

She dashed back to the other side of the bed, latched onto a corner of the pillow with her fangs, and dragged it over to the edge. With a spin and a heave, she hurled the blue pillow right off the bed and onto the floor below. It spun for a couple seconds before thumping against the far wall.

Her mind's eye was suddenly filled with the vision of a small white dragon perched on the edge of a dark-blue bed, staring mournfully down at a fallen pillow.

She followed the image to its source, and found her Rider on the other side of their mental link just about radiating mirth. The dragon shuffled awkwardly on the bed, knowing her sheepish embarrassment was only serving to make Morzan laugh louder. She took solace in the fact that, wherever he was, everyone around him likely thought him insane for suffering a fit of hilarity in public and without apparent cause.

Turning her attention away from her Rider with a squeak of disgruntlement, she leapt from the bed and onto the pillow below. The sense of weightlessness, the feel of air pressing against her outstretched wings, the thrill setting her heart a-pumping – it was beautiful for all that it lasted but a second. She landed onto the soft pillow with a _whump_ and just hummed, high and long, dreaming about the day when she would be big enough to fly.

Her desire to see the sky thus reaffirmed, she raced over to the door she had seen Morzan open so many times before, making sure to bite onto her pillow and take it with her. She narrowed her eyes at the small ribbons-of-white-light streaming into her room from under the door, providing the only illumination in the room aside from a tall lamp in the far corner. She knew enough about the world now to realize that it wasn't something she could just grab onto and hoard underneath her, like a pillow, or her human's hand. But she _also_ knew that the light only came from the parts of the wall-of-warmth-and-water that a claw had punched clean through. This would be the greatest access point to the outside world.

Narrowing her slitted, crimson eyes, she tested the black-stone's defenses with a probing claw swipe. An ear-grating shriek quickly proved to be a worthy riposte as the sound was loud and sudden enough to surprise her into leaping backwards and tumbling over her own tail. Once she righted herself, her tail lashed in chagrin as her human's mind-voice laughed and laughed; he had watched her make a fool of herself, she wasn't sure how but she knew that he did.

Not wanting to admit defeat to a door when her Rider was watching, she haughtily puffed herself up – as if to say, _"I totally meant to do that."_ – and strode back over to the door.

She had to have been clawing at it for several eternities but was according to her human only about three minutes before someone swung it open. As the door swivels inwards, she found herself tripping over her own tail for a second time in as many minutes as she desperately tried to avoid getting smushed inbetween a black-stone door and wall. Sadly, her favorite pillow wasn't nearly as dexterous and was quickly crushed.

Turning accusing eyes up at the cause of her pillow's demise, she squeaked angrily to vent her displeasure. The man failed to show the appropriate levels of fear at the sight of her fierce, draconic rage, which only spurred her to squeak louder and dash from side to side.

 _"That's Lifaen of House Rílvenar,"_ Morzan's whispered mind-voice told her, accompanied by several stock images of the elf from various points of view and two different outfits, reed pipes often being in his hands. At first glance, he looked a lot like her human, what with his long, dark hair, narrow shoulders, and slim, strong arms. In her opinion, however, he looked boring and generic and not at all like her wonderful Rider. _"I have no idea how important the elven Houses are, but winning the affection of one of their member is unlikely to prove worthless. This one is annoyingly peppy and shallow, but he doesn't have a single malicious bone in his body: he'll do. Act as lovable and adorable as you can, as his use to me is directly proportionate to how much he likes you."_

She shook in rage and squeaked even louder at the elf still standing stupidly in the doorway, furious. She wasn't cute! She was fire! She was death!

 _"Very good,"_ Morzan hummed, amused. _"Just like that. He's absolutely smitten."_

The elf proved her Rider correct as he crooned something unintelligible, dropping to both knees and smiling widely at her. The words he spoke seemed to resonate with something inside of her, and just like the sourceless instinct that she hadn't felt since the before-time, she _knew_ that this man meant her no harm and would protect her with his life. The knowledge soothed her anger, somewhat, and when he reached out to pet her, she allowed it.

As the elf scooped her up into the crook of his arm, carried her away from the black-stone-six-walls, and hummed a merry tune, the white dragon decided her Rider was right about how useful having people to serve her can be. It would have taken her forever to break down that door, assuming she could have managed it at all, and she would only have gotten lost in the veritable labyrinth of black stone for her troubles. This way, she can just sit back, enjoy having her scales scratched, and let someone else do all of the work.

She wondered what else she could get this elf to do for her. __

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 _ **Author's Note:** I have no words._


End file.
